Clothes fit looser now.
Back feels straighter, handshake more firm.
Teeth crooked still, but the smile is different.
Not better, but wider, like he's trying to let more people in.
Have you ever heard funeral applause?
It's the sound of many grown men clapping each other
on the back mid-hug. It's an 'I support you, but we can't
hold on too long or too tight without qualification.'
The more tragic the circumstances of your passing,
the louder the funeral applause.
Bury your son and you'll hear it: cacophonous growing
from the back of the church like a collective yawn.
No parent should have to bury their child.
How could we know? They say it's always in the eyes.
But I've never been good with eye contact, maybe that's why.
How could we know.
That you'd take a plane to Colorado, walk into your empty room
and never walk out?
